Charcoal
by Eclectify
Summary: Sometimes you just have to learn to live life rather than experience it only on paper. SLASH. R/S


CHARCOAL  
  
Rating: PG Paring: Sirius/Remus Warnings: Erm..kissing? Does that count? Probably not. Summary: Sometimes you have to learn to live life..rather than just experience it on paper.  
  
A/N: Well, this little idea just bit me on the arse but it's written a little differently than usual. This is actually the result of a little roleplaying between me and my friend Charli over AIM after I came up with the idea. She's in charge of Remus and I was in charge of Sirius..and this was what came about! So thanks goes to Charli for letting me post this! Thanks Moony!  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
The texture was like bread crumbs. Densely packed, fine bread crumbs a colour rather remarkably resembling his own hair. Soft flakes dusted over callused fingertips and flickered over the expanse of white spread beneath it. Smooth curving lines danced across its surface as well as harsh strokes, dark smudges...all an interwoven in an intricate pattern. With a soft gentle puff, ashes of it's broken surface lifted into the air, flittering about in the candle light before falling to the quilt covered bed like fine black snow. One hand reached up to a sweaty brow to wipe it clean...a trail of ebony left in the palms wake before the piece of parchment was lifted for inspection. Grey eyes studying it before returning the page to it's previous place.  
  
No one would have picked Sirius Black for an artist...and a very talented one at that. The charcoal in his fingers brought to life whatever image he held in his mind...and inspiration was not far that night. Grey eyes flickered up to his oblivious model...sitting bathed in candlelight studying his potions textbook, before returning to their contemplation of his piece...hands becoming busy once again.  
  
The night was getting long, his candle was nearing the base on which it stood.it's wick almost out. Glancing passively at it for a split second, Remus returned to his terribly dull but essential potions book. He just could never get this class down. Every other class was just fine...but this one...He decided then and there that he hated potions. Of course, there was nothing he could do about it, so he continued to read. He smiled faintly, wryly. Maybe he'd come across a potion that would make him better at potions. Of course, making the potion was another story. Scratching his temple slightly and leaning back a bit more into the thick pillows, he sighed, closing his eyes to rest them for a moment. Candlelight danced against his contemplative, passive form; casting flickering shadows against his lean frame and glinting ethereally in his silver-flecked tawney hair. He heard faint scratching nearby and guessed that Sirius must be doing some sort of homework, so he let him be. It wouldn't be James. He was currently out on a date with a certain fiery- haired beauty courtesy of the Invisibility Cloak. Peter was sound asleep, so it must've been Sirius. Ah, Sirius...Remus smiled a bit more at the thought. Now there was a vision to take his mind quickly from that infernal potions text.  
  
That smile...Sirius would be a fool not to immortalise it on paper and his fingers busied themselves with capturing that soft smile before it disappeared from that beautiful face. Remus Lupin was an artist dream....an ethereal beauty carved from the purest materials. Soft lines for the wisps of hair that dusted elegant cheekbones.represented by soft smudges of charcoal on the parchment...swift slashes for the flickering candlelight, smoother brushes for the sweeping lashes that sat at half mast. The face was sketched to the finest detail...the objects around merely vague representations all the more exemplifying the natural beauty of the subject. Sirius had hundreds of sketches of his dear friend....ranging from doodles made in class to the carefully thought out study he held in his hands. His muse had never seen these however...Sirius' skilful worship his secret alone. But he intended to show Remus someday...maybe.  
  
Cursing as his piece of charcoal suddenly broke...as charcoal had a habit of doing...he tossed it aside to reach for another, exposing his blackened face for the room to see.  
  
Remus looked up at the sudden curse and looked at his dear friend curiously. Still smiling faintly but looking a bit concerned, he saw the black smudges and raised a light eyebrow slightly. "Sirius? Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft so as not to wake Peter. His tones were warm and faint, subtly and naturally enrapturing. He saw the broken charcoal tossed aside and smiled a bit more. "Not quite the homework I thought you were working on," he said good- naturedly, smiling warmly.  
  
Sirius was jolted from his search for the perfect piece of charcoal by the honey toned voice of the very boy he was sketching. Bringing his grey eyes up to meet the silvery gaze of his best friend, Sirius gave a bright grin despite the hammering his of his heart as he lost himself in that gentle gaze. A perfect opportunity had just been laid in his lap...there would be no mistaking the depth of emotion Sirius held within him for Remus when the young werewolf viewed the seven of so sketchbooks devoted entirely to his very self. Sirius wasn't one to miss an opportunity...despite feeling as if he was about to lay his heart out before Remus, ready and vulnerable for it to be crushed and smeared across the floor...not matter how gentle the rejection. But Sirius' impulsive nature made up his mind...he always lead with his heart no matter how much danger it put him in.  
  
"I'm sketching." he replied.  
  
"Sketching?" Remus looked intrigued. "I didn't know you could draw," he continued, smiling a bit. He turned about and set his feet on the stone floor, shivering slightly against the cold granite. He never cared much for winter, he realized, as he looked out the iron-gilded window at the flurries of moonlit snow. It was always so lonely, he felt...the way the wind moaned so sadly at night. But as he sat down beside Sirius' feet on the edge of his bed, he didn't mind the lonely moaning of wind. "You don't mind if I'd take a look, do you?" he asked, silvery eyes looking genuinely interested.  
  
Heart leaping into his throat, an unusual flush of pink creeping to his cheeks, Sirius gently swept the piece of parchment from the bed and handed it to Remus. "It doesn't do the model justice....but I kinda like it. It's not finished yet." His voice lacked the usual bravado and gained an almost shy quality to it that was rather uncharacteristic for the confident, outgoing boy. But his art was personal...an extension of his very soul. His inner most desires were displayed on that piece of paper.  
  
Remus took the parchment gently from Sirius' hand and smiled in faint amusement at the expression on Sirius' face. "Oh, I'm sure it's lovel-" Remus stopped as he rested his eyes upon the elegantly sculpted drawing, clear and precise and drawn with great love and care. It was himself. His own self, just as he had just been, reading and contemplating the intricacies of his own potions text. Remus slowly looked back up at Sirius, confusion and awe in his face. "Sirius..." he began, faint confusion in his tone, "It's me...it's wonderful...but...why...me?" He couldn't think of anything else to say...  
  
Sirius himself was lost for words...James would certainly have something to say about that little miracle...and taking a deep breath he bent over the side of the bed. Sneezing twice as dust tickled his nose, and moments of rummaging later, Sirius returned to his upright position now in the possession of three very thick leather bound sketchbooks. With a small smile, ducking his head to hide behind the curtain of ebony hair, Sirius placed them on Remus' lap not saying a word.  
  
Action always spoke louder than words...and the skilled action, the loving action taken to create the pictures in these sketchbooks practically screamed it.  
  
Remus handed the new, unfinished sketch back to Sirius with a shaking hand and looked at him curiously when the several books were sat in his lap. Picking up the first one, he opened it gently and looked down up the sketches...Oh God. A blush crept up into his face as he slowly started to turn the pages, looking at the elegant drawings, the doodles, the sketches, and the little comics, complete with dialogue. His mouth was slightly open in enraptured awe, and he drew himself up onto the bed, tucking his feet underneath his legs. "Sirius..." he said again, but words continued to fail him. He ran light fingertips over the paper and took a breath as he finally passed through the last one...Every single piece of paper was a window into a moment of Remus' school life; even slumbering. But it was the last drawing that seemed to catch his eye more than the others. This time, it wasn't merely himself in the drawing...no...it was Sirius as well, side by side...Adrenaline rippled through his veins, and he slowly looked back up into those fathomless grey depths..."Sirius...these are..."  
  
"..not all that good." Sirius said, raking his hand through his hair. The brash, reckless boy knew he had talent and Sirius was never one to be modest or humble, not to certain degree anyway...but he always felt something lacked from his work. They held all the adoration he felt towards his dear friend, the almost worshipful nature in which he regarded Remus displayed on every page. But to Sirius, they were merely empty representations...something to keep a piece of Remus with him everyday in that intensely intimate way they would never be.  
  
Hope....love...they were missing from the drawings. Sirius never dreamed he'd have the love he felt within him returned. Remus was as untouchable as the most priceless pieces of art...you could love it, gaze upon it but never truly own it. Only the artist had that claim.  
  
"No..." Remus said quickly, and fixed him with a warm smile. "They're wonderful..." he said, and gently laid his own hand upon Sirius' own. "Will you hold on a moment?" he sad, a bit softer. "There's something I want you to see as well." With that, he gently stood and tread across the floor, not making a sound, and picked up a small, well-used book from the oak surface. Setting aside the quill that was laid upon it, he stepped carefully back over to Sirius' side and sat down, pulling the curtains closed. This book...it was a personal thing. "I've never shown this to anyone...but in light of these events...I think I can show you." He swallowed a bit and handed it to him, looking a bit uneasy. So many mixed emotions lay in those drawings...it was almost as though Sirius had been quietly worshipping him on this parchment...a cry of love and adoration silenced by the charcoals and paper in those leather- bound books. Did Remus really want to believe all of what those drawings revealed to him?  
  
Sirius gazed into silvery eyes, his own stormy gaze alight with confusion, wonder...and was that hope peering through? Steadying shaking hands (when had they started quivering?), Sirius took the proffered book and opened it on his lap. Careful to keep his charcoal smeared fingers away from the clear pages, he gently...almost reverently turned the first page. A short gasp escaped from his lips as he realised what he now held in his hands.  
  
It was Remus' journal...he'd often seen his secret love, head bent in contemplation and his quill flying over the pages of this elegantly bound book. To have this intensely personal thing...this window into Remus' soul laid before him was a precious gift indeed. Lifting his gaze to once again meet Remus', Sirius shook his head in disbelief.  
  
"You want me to read this?"  
  
Remus nodded slowly. "Yes, please," he said, almost in a pleading sort of way. But there was strength in his voice.a conviction. What had he confessed so many times in eloquent verse was now laid open; what he had told those pages so many times would finally be viewed by the very eyes he thought he would never let read. "I put everything in that...thoughts, poems, stories...views...some of it isn't so pleasant..." he warned, biting his lower lip. Silver-blue eyes were alight with unease and yet a small spark of hope.  
  
Sirius wanted to wipe that unease from Remus' face...the need to touch the face he had so often immortalised on paper becoming a consistent ache in the depths of his being. But his hands remained on the gift settled in his lap. Without a single word spoken, Sirius' gaze once again dropped to the pages of Remus' journal and he lost himself in the words that followed. Remus wrote with a mastery of language that bordered on awe inspiring. Sirius had always known the werewolf was literary...something in the way he spoke so fluently. The way words rolled from his tongue, the way his essays always seemed sparked with that little something extra that truly distinguished him from others.  
  
Sirius knew not how long he sat with the journal, lost in the life of his friend, his secret love. Words rolled over him like a breaking wave of emotion and he was loathe to come up for air. What he found on those pages was everything he had dreamed...but never dared to hope for.  
  
Sirius finally closed the final page, his eyes alight with a glow never seen before in those orbs of stormy grey. Silently he handed Remus the book, gaze still firmly rooted in the space it once occupied.  
  
It seemed, that while Sirius worshipped in charcoals, pencil and ink...Remus Lupin worshipped with words.  
  
Remus took the book silently, looking at him with a desire to decipher to understand that silent, fixated gaze upon Sirius' handsome face. "Sirius?" he asked shakily after a long moment of silence. "Sirius, speak to me...please, tell me what you're thinking..." He didn't like the silence; the lonely, cold moan of the wind had suddenly become all the more unpleasant as he sat so near to Sirius. The air was thick with tension; he couldn't see those grey eyes; couldn't make out the wondrous glow. Hands trembling, he laid a palm on Sirius' hand and squeezed gently, trying to draw him from his reverie.  
  
Sirius lifted his eyes, peering through the ebony strands of his careless hair, and fixed his gaze onto Remus' face, before they darted back to his many drawings then back up again, understanding dawning in his face.  
  
"I've gone about this all wrong." his voice was low, and soft...emotion crackling barely beneath the surface. Sirius could no longer deny his hands what they wanted so much to feel and with one steady hand he reached towards Remus. "You deserved to be painted in sepia ink. Charcoal isn't right for this jaw line...nor the curve of this cheek...or these eyes..." with every word, Sirius traced callused fingertips with practiced gentleness over each feature...a trail of charcoal following in his wake.  
  
Remus smiled faintly at that touch and leaned into it, smiling at the sensation of those charcoal-smudged hands against his face. "Make me a promise, Sirius," he replied, fixing his eyes onto that handsome face. "Promise me that you'll no longer draw me from afar..."  
  
"I'd promise you anything, Remus." Sirius' hands never ceased their soft caresses as he traced all of the beautiful features he had admired for so long from afar...aching to allow his hands to do what they now did. His busy hands had covered Remus' smooth skin with the ebony dust of charcoal and to Sirius, Remus hadn't looked more beautiful then he did right at that moment. Ebony...Black...belonged on this young man just as Sirius belonged with him.  
  
Still gazing into silvery depths, hands still creating their dusty artwork over Remus' face, Sirius brushed thumbs over Remus' lips. The pink hued flesh was painted black....Sirius laying the final touches on his masterpiece. He was the artist now....he had the right to claim what he had created.  
  
With a grin that shone with the purest sunshine, Sirius leaned down to claim his masterpiece...his lips brushing the ebony dusting ones where his thumbs had just so lovingly caressed.  
  
Raising gentle hands to clasp those strong wrists, Remus leaned himself into the kiss, in awe of the grace that Sirius had. So this was what he'd been wanting for all those years...dreaming and wishing but never acting until now...He realized then that no matter what he ever managed to write in his journal, he could never ever find words eloquent enough to describe this moment. Suddenly, the wind no longer seemed so cold and mournful...perhaps it was because he was warm...perhaps it was because he was no longer pining away in the pages of his own world. He smiled and let his lips express what his voice and hand never could.  
  
Remus' lips, ever so eloquent even in silence, spoke the words the Sirius had so long craved to hear. Warmth crawled over his body...the cold of night banished in the very instant Remus' lips melted against his. The kiss...not much more than a chaste pressing of lips against one another...poured forth the purest of emotions from Sirius' heart. Everything he felt, desired, wished, hoped, dreamed was expressed in that gentle touch. Releasing his trapped hands, Sirius pulled Remus against him, wrapping that lithe body in his embrace as his hands danced through tendrils of silvered, tawny hair.  
  
Never again would he worship from afar...hands caressing a cold parchment instead of the warmth that he held in his arms at that moment.  
  
Any inadequacies and insecurities that he had felt washed away in that blackened touch. Arms tightened protectively about Sirius, he felt warmth flood his emotions. There was nothing more secure than this...He could spend all night in his embrace. all night against those lips. This was utopia. Perfect paradise amidst handsome charcoal and elegant ink.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
Well that was extremely sappy.as anything I've touched tends to be *grin*. Anywho.see that little blue button down there. Yep, that one. You know what do with it cause there's two gals here who really want to know what you thought! 


End file.
